My father and I are walking down the street. It is our street. I have grown up there and know every stone and every tree. We are approaching the concave pavement in front of the hospital's entrance. When I was five a man jumped from the top floor. The concavity has been there since then.
I ask my father if he remembers. He looks at me in astonishment. "You've grown up. You've studied physics. The human body can't make a concavity in stone. The pavement is lower so the ambulances can pass."
I look at the pavement. Yes, it is for the ambulances. I'm not sure if I do remember. He might have flown straight up into heaven.
© Ludmila Balabanova